


The True Starks- Part 2: Arya

by sixsmith009



Series: The True Starks [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Incest, Parent/Child Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 15:38:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16726176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixsmith009/pseuds/sixsmith009
Summary: The Stark men have gone on their yearly hunt, leaving Cat at Winterfell with the girls. Arya's shenanigans push Catelyn to the point of desperation, leaving both mother and daughter furious at each other.





	The True Starks- Part 2: Arya

Catelyn lay sprawled on her bed, naked and sweating. She’d rubbed, fingered, stuck all sort of things in her holes. She’d brought herself to completion several times since she’d retired to bed- the sheets stood testament to it, sopping wet around her crotch as they were. It wasn’t enough. She’d had no shortage of bodies since she turned eleven and the ministrations of the knight at the fair had awakened her womanhood. Men, women… as one of the two little ladies of Riverrun, she’d been well looked-after. The other little lady… she smiled as she remembered her fruitless attempts at getting her sister to spread her legs for… what was his name? Ser Gerrod? The little prude had never had a cock in her before she married. 

The amusement faded quickly, replaced by the irritation and sense of uncomfortable loneliness she’d been plagued with the entire day. She so yearned for Jessy, with her cunning, well-experienced fingers, or even Abell, the well-endowed brute of a man from the Tower Guard Jessy had roped in with the promise of the perfectly depraved nights they’d have together. 

Unfortunately, neither of them would be coming to her that night, or the next. Or a number of nights in the foreseeable future. The little brat had chased the cat into the kitchens, almost burning herself on the cauldrons of hot water being prepared for the castle to bathe and clean with. The cat had upended several cauldrons as Abell tried to pull Arya out, and Jessy was now down in the village, nursing her man’s scalded legs; the entire scullery now smelt of burnt cat.

She tossed restlessly, her fury building. She’d not got a wink of sleep the night before, riding first Ned, then the boys, then the two youngest, helping them release themselves. She’d been planning to have a quiet day in, get some of the masons up to mend the gutters on the East wing, and go to bed early, in the arms of Jessy and Abell. Yet here she was, frustrated, empty, tired, angry and unsatisfied. 

“Gods be damned”, she muttered as she almost leaped out of bed. She pulled on her night-dress, threw on a cloak, and headed out of her room. The stableboy would have to do.

She glided through the castle noiselessly, past the boys’ now empty rooms, and the room the girls shared. She glared at the door as she walked past, deciding she’d punish the incorrigible little brat more tomorrow. Uncontrollable, back-talking little bitch. Ned was the only one she’d pay heed to, and even then with a pout on her face that made Catelyn want to smack her across the face. And here was her mother, cold and furious, about to trudge down to the stables to get a stableboy to fuck the mother of the girl he’d most likely have relieved himself thinking about a few hours ago when he went to his bed.

She exited through the small door that connected the kitchens with the stables, made for taking meals out to the stable hands during the winter months. She took care to stick to the shadows, her cunt throbbing in the cold air, desperate to be stretched, fucked and filled. Her right hand grabbed the cloak tighter around her while she slipped her left under it to pinch her nipples. The trinity throbbed together, and she felt like screaming. She needed release.

The back door of the stables was ajar. Catelyn stopped. Three hours after midnight- who was tending the horses at this hour? Most likely, whatever halfwit had fed the horses in the evening had forgotten to lock it behind him. Typical- Ned leaves, and everyone half-asses every single thing they do. Nevertheless, she needed to get up to the stableboys’ rooms in the adjacent building, linked to the stables by a small door in the attic. She entered and closed the door behind her. 

It was cold, and smelt of hay and manure. She moved towards the narrow, rickety stairs, but before she could set foot on it, she heard movement. Cat froze. Explaining her presence in the stables several hours before dawn would be difficult.

Grunts. Light grunts. Sounds of a repeated movement. Two grunts at the same time told her two men were up there- most likely two stableboys going at each other. Or the stablemaster- the man was known to like two things- horses, and young, soft boys. Ned only kept the man around for his ability to keep the horses alive in the worst of circumstances, and had forbidden Bran and Rickon to go anywhere near him.

Whoever was up there, she now had no chance of entering the stable quarters through the door. She’d have to cross the stableyard to get to its front door, and that’d leave her open to the moonlight, and to entering the building through the hallway, which opened to several rooms, any one of which have someone walk out of them for use of the outhouse or a drink of water. Gritting her teeth and cursing her day and Arya’s intransigence again, she turned to leave.

“Fuuuuuuuck”, came a sigh from above. Catelyn froze again. 

She turned, and ran up the stairs.

The sudden noise had startled the three occupants of the narrow attic, who were already scrambling up off the floor. The moonlight streaming in through the little window overlooking the yard was enough to make her confirm the voice had belonged to who she thought it had belonged to.

Arya Stark, youngest daughter of the Warden of the North, stood naked, sweating and covered in bits of hay and dust, between two stablehands. She recognized one as the good-looking newcomer she’d been heading up to find and fuck. The other was even younger, the son of the blacksmith, barely fourteen. It was obvious what had been going on.

Arya opened her mouth, but Catelyn bounded forward, grabbed her by the arm, and struck her hard, several times across her face. She squealed, and again Catelyn’s cunt twinged. Catelyn turned to the older boy. Not a bad cock at all, for the lad’s age- she’d definitely be sampling that at some point, but for now, she needed the boy punished.

“You breathe a word of this, you so much as look at my daughters again, I will have you dragged off into the woods and your throat cut open, d’you understand? You will go see the see the stablemaster now. Tell her Lady Stark sends a peace offering.”

The boy nodded, clearly terrified. He collected his clothes and hurried through the door. Cat turned to the younger one.

“You will go wait by the stablemaster’s door and enter once he leaves. Tell the stablemaster Lady Stark sends another offering”. The boy was so terrified he left the clothes on the floor as he exited.

Arya tried to squirm free. Cat wrung her hand, making her squeal again. And again her cunt throbbed harder.

“My clothes!”

“No, you’re walking back naked, you little slut. You’re walking back cold, across the yard. I don’t care who sees you- this House has already had its moment of shame with your father, what more could you do?”

“Not like you don’t do your share, fucking everything inside these walls”

Catelyn whirled around, and the slaps fell hard and fast. The little brat didn’t cry, didn’t make a sound this time, just looking back defiantly back at her. She stopped, breathing heavily. Her cunt throbbed and throbbed.

“I’m the slut? You won’t even leave the boys alone”.

Cat drew herself up again, not caring who heard them anymore. The volley of slaps landed across Arya’s buttocks this time. She felt the wetness on her thighs now. Ignoring it, she dragged a protesting Arya down the stairs, opened the door and threw her out. 

“Walk. Either you walk across the yard and get back to bed, or I drag you across it by your hair”

“Who’s better? Robb or father?”

Catelyn snapped, swinging her foot towards Arya before she even knew what she was doing. The little animal dodged, laughing, tears in her eyes from the beatings, both sets of cheeks red. She spat at her mother, then set off in the freezing mud towards the castle door.

Catelyn re-entered the kitchens, locked the door, and headed round to the main kitchen doors that opened on the yard. The little bitch was standing outside when she opened it, leaning against the doorframe with her fingers up her cunt, smiling up at her. Cat pulled her in- whatever she’d said, there was torchlight streaming out of the door now, and anyone with a room overlooking the yard could see them.

A sleepy guard walked out of the small guard nook behind them. She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, aware he was staring at them, particularly at Arya. No doubt the man would take some time to fall asleep now. Brilliant, she thought. Another one to deal with in the morning.

She dragged a sniffling Arya up the stairs, and stopped by the room Sansa was snoring in lightly. 

“You’re to stay in that room until your father returns. I’m having a guard posted out here- an old one so you can’t get him to crawl in between your slut legs. You will eat in there, you will bathe in there, you will do your lessons in there. You so much as try to leave and I will have you chained in the crypt, you hear me?”

The little beast stood there sullenly, glaring at her. Cat didn’t wait for a reply, reaching out for the door handle.

“Why do you never bed me or Sansa?”

She turned around. Arya was still staring at her. There was still fury in her eyes, but she also looked genuinely curious.

“Why would I bed my own-”

“Father’s already fucked me. He tried Sansa, but that airhead wouldn’t know a cock if it hit her in the face.”

Catelyn had no real answer to the situation. She knew the girls probably heard, and she and Ned had even hoped Sansa would join, but she hadn’t really thought about Arya. Her cunt was oozing now. She looked Arya up and down. 

Impudent, irascible, and an absolutely undisciplined little tomboy that could take pain. She’d never really seen the appeal before, but thinking about it, she started to. What did it matter which of her daughters she helped bring to womanhood? Particularly when one may likely be a wild fuck…

Cat let go of her cloak, grabbed Arya by the cheeks, leaned down, and tongued her daughter’s throat. Kissed her with passion- not really love or lust, but with anger. Anger at giving her no end of trouble, anger at the snide remarks and back-talking, anger at having her worry every time her younger daughter disappeared, anger at the fact that Arya had been found fucking two of the smallfolk, anger at the fact that she was now so frustrated that she was willing to bed….

Arya kissed back, tongue darting into her mouth, hands reaching into her mother’s dress to pinch her nipples, hard. Catelyn’s hands slipped down to Arya’s buttocks, squeezing and slapping them. Hard. Like the boys’. She savoured the feeling of the hard, wiry muscles under the soft skin. She sucked on Arya’s little tongue, tasting the cum, the food she’d probably sneaked before her adventure. Spittle dripped down their chins as they suckled and slurped.

They broke apart. Arya had a look of triumph. No doubt she’d spend the next few days passing cutting remarks about her mother, and blackmailing her with the threat of telling on her to the Maester. Catelyn didn’t care. She wanted to punish the little thing, to have her struggling and pleading. She wanted that little tongue lapping up her juices, those little fingers- gods be damned, those hands- in her cunt, those little feet in her mouth. She wanted to shove her own fingers into that perfect, hairless cunt and watch the little brat helpless for once. 

She grabbed Arya again and lifted her up, kissing her again. Arya pulled away, and ripped open the front of her mother’s dress, buttons pinging off the stone floor. Catelyn’s breasts sprang out, nipples erect and throbbing noticeably. She fell back onto the door, Arya twisting her nipples, reaching back up for a tonguing. They stood there, mother and daughter, lost deep in their lust for each other, each furious about the way the other had treated them, each subconsciously plotting the other’s punishment over the next few days. 

Keeping one leg wrapped round her mother’s buttocks, Arya drew back the other and kneed her mother in the groin. Catelyn gasped- the impact drove her against the door again, and sent a wave of pleasure through her. The part of her thin dress that had made contact with her already oozing cunt was noticeably wet, and Arya felt it. She ground her knee into the mound she felt between her mother’s thighs, revelling in the control she had over her. Catelyn reached between her daughter’s legs, thrusting her fingers through the tightening thighs, forcing her fingers into Arya’s wet, precum-coated hole. She fingered her, taking pleasure in feeling Arya twist in her arms, watching her eyes half-shut, savouring the feeling of her mother inside her. They kissed again, wildly, and broke apart, panting heavily.

Catelyn lowered Arya to the ground, and took her by the hand. Breathing heavily, she moved towards the room she and Ned slept in, leaving her cloak behind in her haste. She opened the door, threw Arya in, and closed it behind them. 

Arya walked over to the bed, which was a mess of tangled sheets smelling faintly of sweat and urine. She grinned at the wet patch and the various wooden phalluses scattered about. 

“I stole one of these once. Spent days using it”

Catelyn barely heard. Arya turned only to see a naked Cat loom up behind her, lift her up onto the bed and slam her down. A moment later, she was pinned under her mother, Catelyn’s cunt on her face. She could barely breathe. 

Her mother didn’t hear the faint muffled words or feel the hands trying to push her off. She rode the brat’s face, grinding her cunt on her face, smearing her juices on it, moaning.

“Take it. Take it. Just take it”, she whispered. The tongue not being forthcoming, she lifted her cunt up off her daughter’s face. Arya sucked in a huge breath. Cat grabbed her by her hair.

“Tongue my cunt”

“Or what?”

“Or I do that again”

“If that’s how you ride the boys’ cocks, no wonder they prefer Jessy over you”

Slap.

“Are you angry that Jessy and Abell can’t fuck you tonight?”

Slap.

“Do you relieve yourself to Jon?”

Cat shoved Arya’s face between her thighs, rubbing it up and down on her cunt, pulling at her hair. She felt the tongue teasing her, sucking on her throbbing clitoris. She moaned. Loud. She didn’t care anymore. She just wanted release.

Arya’s little hands were slapping her rear now, and Cat moaned again, throwing her head back. She reached down and rained down a volley of slaps on her daughter, not caring where they landed. She just wanted to hurt Arya, use her and abuse her. She rode the squealing brat, squeezing her thighs together, choking her, willing herself to sweet release….

Catelyn screamed as she exploded. Warm liquid- a day’s worth of cunt juice and piss- sprang from her cunt, smothering Arya. The little bitch squealed and tried to wriggle free, but her mother anticipated the move. Reaching down, Catelyn grabbed a handful of hair and kept the little face so that her cunt sent wave after wave of stinking piss onto it. She gasped as the feeling of release- sexual, physical and mental- washed over her. 

“You needed that”, she whispered hoarsely, still bucking on her daughter’s face, thighs squeezing, urging the feeling of release to last longer. Letting go of one fistful of hair, she reached behind her, searching for her daughter’s cunt: she found it, oozing and sticky. Whatever the girl had done, she’d liked this. The thought infuriated Catelyn for some reason she was unable to put into coherent thought.

“I’ll teach you”, Cat whispered as she shoved the little legs open, “I’ll teach you!”. 

She didn’t really hear the loud squeal. All she felt was a wave of pleasure run through her body as she landed the flat of her palm on Arya’s cunt, coming down in a hard smack. The pain made her daughter squirm and her head jerk up, which collided with Catelyn’s sore, aching mound. Cat moaned weakly, and raised her hand for another smack.

Pain- and pleasure- erupted again. Arya had managed to wriggle a hand free and had reached up to almost tear her mother’s left nipple off. Catelyn screamed, and brought her hand down again. The pair squealed together this time. Arya’s crotch was now a wet, oozing mess. Cat rubbed her hand on it, aware that her daughter had begun tonguing her again. She squeezed Arya’s mound gently, feeling every fold, massaging it…

Arya gasped as her mother’s fingers entered her in a frenzy. She felt the weight on her chest lifted as Cat moved aside. 

“M- mother…”

Arya could barely speak. Catelyn had two fingers deep inside her now, and was going at her cunt with a kind of maniacal lust. Occasionally, she’d stop and Arya would feel that tongue dart between the folds of her cunt, pressing against her clitoris. Then it was back to the fingering, with each round seeing one more finger added. She felt her foot being lifted, her soles being licked, her toes sucked on. 

Arya released, gushing over her mother’s arm. Cat pulled out, licking her fingers slow, then stuck them inside herself. Urgently, she stood over Arya and fingered her cunt desperately. Arya watched as the fingers went in and out, watched her mother’s entire body shudder in anticipation. She lay there, too weak to stop it.

Cat released again. Piss and cunt juice rained down on Arya. This time, she stuck her tongue out, catching some of it, tasting it. 

Catelyn laughed, and flopped onto the bed beside her. They kissed again, still hating each other, but for now, content in the truce. They tasted each other, and broke apart. 

Mother and daughter dozed off in each other’s arms, not hearing the door swing slowly open. They slept on, not feeling the fingers that ran over them or the tongue that peeled apart lips and cheeks to taste them. They didn’t notice the figure sit by the fire, legs splayed wide, hands at its crotch until it sighed softly. They didn’t hear the door close shut silently as the figure left.


End file.
